


Haddonfield PD

by Meeker_rulez88



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: 1970's, Cop centric, F/M, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meeker_rulez88/pseuds/Meeker_rulez88
Summary: Every story has it's different point of view. The horrific night of Halloween in 1978 is certainly no exception to this. We've seen it through Laurie Strode. We've seen it through Dr. Samuel Loomis. We've even seen it through the eyes of the Shape itself. But what of the local police force? What was that day and night like for the Haddonfield PD?What was it like for Sheriff Brackett and his deputies to transition from trees strung up with toilet paper and smashed up pumpkins on doorsteps to an escaped lunatic and dead teenagers?





	Haddonfield PD

**Author's Note:**

> Some useful factoids: For anyone questioning what characters from different eras and films in the franchise such as Ben Meeker from H4 & 5 and Deputy Webb & King from Rob Zombie's Halloween 2 (2009) are doing in the events of Halloween (1978), I'll make it simple as possible. This fic just merely immigrants those characters from their debut films and into the 70's era the first film takes place in. 
> 
> This does not mean that films like Halloween 4-6 or Rob Zombie's remakes are in continuity to this fanfic. This fic is mainly connected to the H20 timeline. Meaning the events of H2 will be featured and covered as well. 
> 
> The characters from those films merely exist in H20's continuity as well under different circumstances. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do NOT own not make any claims of owning these characters. They are owned by their respective copyright holders. 
> 
> They

Andy Neale awoke to the screaming of his busted up alarm clock, fighting through the intense grogginess while his hand searched blindly for the damned thing. The search proved fruitful as his fingers soon brushed against the dusty surface of the clock.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear ya, asshole..." Andy mumbled into the pillow while slamming his hand down onto the accursed device, silencing it effectively. His eyes blinked themselves open, feeling the sunlight hitting them unmercifully as it seeped in through the blinds.

His head was already pounding something fierce and the dry aftertaste of liquor sat at the back of his mouth.  

With a heavy groan, Andy forced hitself to roll outta bed, popping his neck at the same time as the bed springs. He glanced over at the other side of the mattress, finding already barren of his late night company, Misty Dawn.

Misty was a stripper he had picked up from The Rabbit in the Red Lounge last night during his late night ritual of downing shots after his shift at the station had ended. They chatted it up, a lap dance happened, then next thing Andy knows is they're stumbling into his trailer at 2:30 AM after her own shift ended.

He sighed disappointedly at her absence, however expected it was, before swinging the blanket off hID naked self and making a grab for his tan work pants laid in a heap on the floor. It was routine for the two by this point anyways. They'd screw in the night, she'd ditch him by dawn. They've been doing it for months by now.

Still, it wouldn't _hurt_ if she had stuck around for some breakfast one of these mornings...

Andy yanked his pants up and haphazardly looped in the belt while lumbering into his tightly squeezed bathroom and flipping the rusty sink on. It gave an argumentative groan before spewing water out. 

He splashed some cold water on his face in hopes to momentarily quell the lingering hangover until he got some caffeine in his system.

Andy took a gander at himself in the dirtied mirror, taking note of the filthy five o'clock shadow growing on it. He made short work of it with a rusted razor and the last remnants of his shaving cream, leaving only his beloved trademark handlebar mustache.

That done, Andy made his way towards the kitchen. Not like there was much distance to travel. His trailer was so goddamn small, pretty much the only thing that made his bedroom an actual room was the door.

The living room television was still broadcasting, no doubt left on overnight by his drunken ass. The WWAR morning news was in effect as that prick Robert Mundy reported something that he could hardly care about. Andy wasn't in the mood for his ego this early so he just simply clicked it off. 

Andy popped out his front door to swipe the latest issue of the Haddonfield Tribune off his front porch. He gave the carved pumpkin on the front steps a quick pat on the head. "Happy Halloween, right, pal?"

He stepped right into his compact kitchen and tucked the newspaper under his armpit. Andy tried the coffee pot in a desperate need for a pick-me-up only to find it unresponsive to his incessant whacks after he poured some coffee beans in.

"Aw, come _on_..." He grumbled, giving it one last hit as it sputtered helplessly.

Damn thing has been broken for two months now. He suppose it was due for a replacement. Oh well. When his next paycheck clears, he'll grab one from the Discount Mart. 

Guess that means a quick coffee run at Dunkin' Donuts while on the way to work. What else was new? 

In the meantime, this called for his usual back up plan in this situation. Andy dug into his pocket and retrieved the crumpled up cigarette pack he had picked up from Dales Gas Station two nights ago while on patrol. 

He popped out onto the back deck of his trailer while popping a Clove Cigarette in his mouth and lighted it up with his tomato red bic.

His trailer sat at the very back of the Lost River Trailer Park, right on the very bank of the Lost River itself.

The morning October air was still crisp as Andy took a deep inhale of the cancer stick, the autumn sunrise hanging above the horizon and stretching across the surface of the river. Curled up leaves raced gracefully down the river as they fell from branches in droves. The remaining ones shined brightly under the sunlight, coating the treetops in a vast orange hue. A huge patch of fog was seeping right through the trees and blanketin' the other side of the riverbank.

He breathed it all in deeply. In the distance, someone was burning leaves. It smelled comforting. It smelled like Halloween.

As he felt the cold breeze bounce right off the river, Andy instantly regretted not grabbing a shirt for himself. His shoulders shudddred. He just took another puff, feeling the cancerous smoke warm me up considerably.

If there was one benefit to living in his shithole trailer, it was the morning view. Sitting riverside smoking a cigarette and reading the newspaper while lounging back in a beach chair wasn't a bad way to wake up.

He couldn't waste much more time though gazing at the sun. He had to hop in the shower and get dressed real fast. He was due in at Haddonfield Police Department pretty soon at 8:30 AM.

"What time is it, anyways?" Andy wondered out loud, muffled by the cigarette in between his lips as he took a gander at his wrist watch. His eyes widened in alarm.

It was already 8:20 AM! ' _Shit, I'm gonna be late AGAIN! Oh Jesus, Sheriff Leigh Brackett's gonna kill me!',_ he thought fretfully. 

Panic-stricken and motivated, Andy flicked his half-finished cigarette into the river current and dashed back inside straight towards his bedroom. He searched frantically for his uniform shirt through the disarrayed state of his sleeping quarters until he found it hanging off his closet door. 

Buttoning it up and tucking it in, he slipped on his boots and practically fell back inside the bathroom, getting to work on brushing his teeth as fast as possible.

He gave his tired face another cold water douse for extra measure before stomping right out and making a speedy grab for his badge and gun belt.

"Brackett's gonna feed me to the K9-Units," He muttered harshly to himself while making sure his service revolver was secured within it's holster. 

Already, he could picture being subjected to Leigh's almighty disappointed stare as he walked through the station's front doors.

With his wallet pocketed, Andy scooped his aviator sunglasses off the coffee table, lifted his car keys and bomber jacket, and stepped right out his front door towards his parked squad car.

"Let's hope you still got a job to go to," Andy mumbled while jabbing the keys into the ignition and peeling out, kicking up dust and gravel in his wake.

**Author's Note:**

> Another tidbit: I'm gonna be heavily incorporating aspects from the movie novelizations by Curtis Richards and Dennis Etchison. As well as other expanded material from the franchise. 
> 
> Be sure to love & comment!


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